Paths: Gravitation
by Faylinn Night
Summary: Sam's on a quick trip to visit the Guardians. He doesn't want Thera along, but she stows away anyhow. During the trip, she learns a little about the gravitation between Sam and the Guardians—as well a slight pull between each other. (SamxThera)
1. Take Off

**A/N:** Hey, everyone. If you haven't read " _Path_ ", you'll have little idea about what this story focuses on. Or who Thera Moore is. So. Keep that in mind, lol.

Thera and any other OCs that are mentioned are mine. They belong in the "Paths" Universe.

* * *

 **Chapter 01 -** **Take Off**

Deep in the woods of New York's Central Park, Samuel Alexander eyed the familiar contours of The Milano. Its near seventy-foot wingspan hardly fit within the clearing Star Lord had deemed safe to land, and the damages it sustained before its last trip to Earth were no longer visable. This gave the yellow and blue decal work along the slick surface a sort of radiant glow when it reflected the rays of the setting sun, but its enchantment was crushed under Sam's reason for boarding it.

"Took ya long enough, Kid," a gruff voice snapped.

Sam blinked behind his Nova helmet, drawing his attention to the Raccoon-like being that stood at the edge of the Milano's stern ramp. "What can I say?" he shot back while flying forward. "I got caught up with something."

"If ya ran into some action, ya should'a called," Rocket said as they ascended the ramp. A notorious smirk tugged at his snout when he rested his laser gun's barrel on his shoulder guard.

"I wouldn't call it action," said Sam lowly. Still, he smiled at the indifferent shrug Rocket gave then landed beside Gamora in the hull just as the hydraulic whirls of the ramp signaled its closing.

"Evening, Sam," the green-skinned warrior greeted. There was little emotion in her expression or voice, yet the tinge of contentment he learned to detect after years of tutorage lead the Hispanic to believe she was happy he had come.

Knowing this made him smile. "Evening, Master Gamora."

"You are late."

"So I've heard."

The Zen Whoberian huffed then crossed her toned arms. "Quill was ready to leave you."

"He wouldn't do that," Sam said over the increasing hum of the engines. They had started the moment the Nova hero stepped foot inside The Milano—a sure sign that its captain had been ready for takeoff long before his arrival.

"We have been very busy with Chitauri, Sam," said Gomora, now solemn. "Answering your call—"

"Meant going out of your way. I know, alright? But"—Sam sighed—"I needed some time…with you guys."

"Bah!" Rocket's four-foot figure passed between Gamora and his ex-student. "If we get to shoot things together, I'm cool. Right, Kid?"

Sam laughed. "Right."

"We have no current mission other than to replace our thrusters," Gamora told Rocket.

"What's wrong with the thrusters?"

As if in direct answer to Sam's question, The Milano groaned, sputtered, then shook like a backfiring car. Its tremble uprooted Sam's feet from the metallic floor as the pitiful thrusters raised the starship higher and the Hispanic tripped backwards when it tilted up prematurely. The gravity that pushed his body against the back wall was fierce, yet its pressure wasn't alien. He knew not to fight it nor climb over the bodies of Gamora and Rocket at his sides.

"Would it kill ya to ask if we're ready for takeoff, Quill?" Rocket cried as they broke through Earth's atmosphere.

The pressure lasted a moment longer then evened, settling into a common motion that Sam felt completely natural in. "Geez, that was a little rough," the teen noted when he and the Guardians landed on their knees.

"Damn fool's gunna break the patch-job I did in Deo," Rocket spat. He rose to his paws quicker than the others then darted towards the engine room behind a welded ladder ahead, adding, "I'll meet you two in the cockpit later; once I've seen what damage our so-called leader's done."

Sam tore his attention away from the engine room's door to Gamora. "Why would you be in Deo? The place is a desert."

"Not much choice when your engines cut out," the woman countered coolly.

"Again? Don't tell me Master Rocket's skills have been slipping."

A faint trace of humor graced Gamora's dark green lips and when she passed Sam, she touched his shoulder. "Titus was responsible for the damage we sustained last month. The Omnium Generator is working perfectly; however—"

"The thrusters are failing due to age. Deo was an emergency stop, like Earth."

"Yes."

Sam caught The Zen Whoberian's quirked lips, certain of its prideful message in having trained him. He followed her to the ladder, flew through the round, open door above and then waited for Gamora to join him on the upper-level cabin. Once the duo reached the air-tight door beyond the mess Star Lord called home, Gamora punched the button that opened it. With a hiss, it did as told and allowed her and Sam to enter the cockpit prior to snapping shut.

"Did you brace yourselves?" Star Lord asked—a teasing gesture.

"Yeah, with our asses," Sam answered. Approaching the cockpit's front, he glared mildly at the blue visor helmet used to shield most of the leader's face then sunk into the copilot seat.

Star Lord smiled at the controls, chuckling. "Hanging 'round this crew, you should know how to keep on your feet, Nova."

"Well, we shouldn't have to keep our guard up around _friends_. So where are we heading? Beta? Cron? I know we aren't exactly welcomed on either planet, but I'm sure Rocket and I could break out with no effort."

"Actually, we're exercising a more civil route this time." Star Lord's calm tone deflated the puff in Sam's chest and drew down the hand he punched into his open palm.

"Really?"

"We're in route for Krylor. Rocket has an underground connection from a past prison break that can get us up-to-date thrusters. At a steep cost."

"But Krylorians are, like, _the_ tech people. It'll totally be worth the price! I mean, I could still beat The Milano in a race, but it'd be kind'a close."

"Kind'a close?" The older man snorted. "Wait until my baby gets her upgrades. Then you'll see."

It was a joke of course; Star Lord knew Sam could break the sound barrier. But Sam showed his acceptance with a smirk before leaning back in his seat, gaze set on the passing stars.

He realized he missed such light jesting from his old team. It's not something his new team lacked; it just held a different weight when surrounded by the people who trained him, offered him direction, inspired him. They were his heroes, his reason for training under SHIELD.

And after the incident with Titus, he needed to speak with them.

"Gamora"—Star Lord's authoritative voice brought Sam's attention sideways—"could you find Drax and Rocket? Dinner's soon."

The green-skinned woman made a face, turning on a heel. "Graced with yet another of Quill's culinary marvels. We should be so lucky."

"Hey, now!" Star Lord yelled over his shoulder. "This isn't like the pudding pops! Or the frozen burritos."

"I can cook," Sam said as the door sealed Gamora from the cockpit.

"You can bake."

"Which is better than Drax's space road-kill, Rocket's pellets, and any unmentionables Groot and Gamora come up with."

"True…Fine. Take a gander in the kitchen, see what's there. Lord knows if I get any more complaints, I'll vow to have everyone eat out. And they're responsible for their own expenses."

Sam sniggered. He could just picture the Guardians sitting in an Earth restaurant, totally out of place, and the power of it forced him back in his seat.

"Speaking of responsibility, Nova, why were you so late?"

Sam's humor dried up as the question settled in. His grin died, his head dropping.

What should he say? The truth?

The truth was this: he had better luck keeping a low-key with his team than with Thera Moore.

* * *

A subtle call to Director Fury had kept SHIELD off his back when he hailed Star Lord, and the others were well preoccupied. Peter was busy easing over his flakiness with Harry and Mary-Jane, while Ava studied for various tests. Danny and Luke planned to spend time with Zeelan, so this gave the Hispanic enough leeway for the weekend.

Or so he had thought…

"Oh, come on, Nova!" Fin's Dakotan voice carried over the rooftops.

She had followed the hero with surprising agility, and something within Sam wouldn't abandon her—though he could do so easily to reach the meeting point he had set up with Star Lord.

"I'll be back before you return to Charlotte," Sam replied from the evening sky. A glance down revealed the mutant's intense gaze. Her orange eyes always caught the Hispanic off guard, so he was thankful his helmet hid his expression.

"We haven't seen each other in almost two months," the slender heroine said when Sam lowered his body near the ledge she perched on.

"We'll catch up Sunday."

"Sunday night. One night isn't enough to cover what I wanna know."

"And what _do_ you want to know, Fin?" questioned Sam. Brow quirked beneath his helmet, he crossed his arms while the redhead groaned.

"What kind of question is that?" she asked.

"Just return to the Triskelion. I need this weekend to sort out some…things."

"Maybe I can help." Fin fiddled with the protruding plates along her flared arm protectors. Their thin edges consisted of an Adamantium-mix, Sam knew, and the dense scales along the tanned teen's fingertips are what kept the metal from injuring her.

"Sorry, Thera. I've had a lot on my mind."

"And I can't possibly help, right?" Fin's lips twisted into a lopsided smile as she made even eye contact with the hero. When she did, Sam tensed, struck by the amount of hurt in her expression.

"I—"

Fin glared. "Like to make excuses. Didn't we agree not to do that anymore? Months ago, we promised we'd be better people than the ones who were taken by Collier. I—I've taken the path to put my powers to good use, but I haven't heard anything from you. I mean"—the scaly teen scoffed—"why didn't you call when you got your power up? You went from a Denarian to a Centurion. Th—that's big."

Sam gave a brusque sigh. "It wasn't something worth announcing."

"Since when do _you_ not like to gloat?"

"As awesome as I am, I'm also busy."

"Oh, I see. Too busy for lowly green heroes like me then."

"Thera, I didn't mean—"

Fin held up a webbed hand, her Wid-Western accent growing deeper. "You know what, Sam? I can handle learning through the media that Spider-Man joined the Avengers for a time. I can handle local clowns in Charlotte like Sidestep and The Snatcher. I can even handle the belated knowledge that a new SHIELD team has been in the works for the past few months. What I can't handle is someone not living up to their promises."

"I never promised to tell you everything."

"This isn't about knowing _everything_!" While Fin maintained a glare, the shakes in her slender body added to the pain behind her glistening eyes.

"Then what is it about?" Sam asked, softer.

"Our friendship."

The whisper sent rigidness through Sam's bones, silencing him as the mutant continued.

"I was so glad we survived Collier's lab together. I—I honestly thought we could start a new chapter in our lives—not as enemies, but as friends. We talked. For a while. Until I asked about your meeting with the Yoon-Beas. Why?"

Sam could give no real answer without revealing things he'd rather keep hidden, so the hero steeled himself, rising from the building ledge. "I might be able to tell you when I get back. I'm sorry, Thera…I really gotta go. I'll see you later."

* * *

Sam had flown off without glancing back. He needed a chance to calm himself by circling the park a few times before arriving at The Milano. Now that the distraction had passed, he grimaced at the resurgence of dread in his stomach.

"Sam? You okay?"

Organs churning, Sam faced Star Lord. The auburn-haired man had removed his helmet, leaving his rugged features to scrunch in concern. Doing so made him look older than mid-thirties, but the matter went unnoted as the teen asked,

"Have you ever done something really bad to someone when you didn't mean it?"

"Is that a trick question? I mean, come on. I once told an Interdite she was lovely to get away with swiping something from Yandu. I didn't mean it. And she turned out to be a he. Talk about awkward."

"I'm being serious," Sam spat, eyes thinning.

The heat behind them eased Star Lord's expression until it turned stoic. "What's going on, Sam? Does this have something to do with why you called?"

The Hispanic dropped his vision, silent.

"It does then."

"You guys have a lot to handle," Sam added. "I knew I had to tag along if I was gunna…"

"Get face time with us?"

"Pretty much."

"You chose to be the Guardian of Earth. Why come to us?"

"Because I—" Sam held his breath then released it once he made eye contact with the man beside him. "You guys have more experience with this and, honestly? I'm kind'a ashamed to talk about it with my team."

"Ashamed?"

Sam longed to duck his head away from Star Lord's inquiring gaze, except lessons from Gamora kept it raised, like the strong warrior he was. "Back in May, I was reckless. Got caught up in a fight."

"Now how's that bad?" said Star Lord while crossing his arms. Under normal circumstances, Sam would agree. But these circumstance weren't normal, so he grimaced.

"It's bad because I got someone _hurt_!" Sam slapped a hand against the control panel. It beeped as the teen forced down a lump in his throat, and Star Lord reeled. "While I love the adrenaline rush and praise and challenge, my goal's always been to be a hero. Because at the core that's what the Guardians are. It's what Master Rocket and Master Gamora taught me. And I—I got carried away."

"Sometimes, to learn important lessons, we must make mistakes," Star Lord said after a short pause.

"This was more than a mistake."

"We all have regrets, Sam."

"You aren't getting it!" Jaw clenched, Sam rose from the copilot seat to stare down the leader. "I almost _killed_ a couple, Quill. All because I lost myself. I didn't want to admit it, but…it was my fault. I should've been more careful. I should've found a way to contain Trickster, before he could affect me. I can't help imaging what would've happened if Animus weren't there to save them. If they had…"

"How badly were they injured?" Star Lord asked.

Sam's head grew heavy when he recalled the report. "The man sustained only a broken wrist, but his wife? She won't ever walk again and…apparently, she'd been pregnant. Before the incident."

"Sam—"

Clank. Hiss!

The cockpit door opened, a chorus of loud voices overcoming any words Star Lord attempted. Sam sighed at the apologetic grin he received, yet followed the older man's lead until he spotted Gamora, Rocket, and Drax—who all forced a figure ahead of them as they approached.

"I caught a stowaway in the engine room," Rocket remarked with his laser gun poised.

Likewise, Drax adopted a battle stance, his large chest rumbling with a growl.

"She claims to be a friend of Sam's," said Gamora—an unsure action.

The cloaked figure backpedaled from the green woman's glare until he met Star Lord's form. The space hero wasted no time in pushing back the figure's hood with a hand. When he did, Sam's eyes widened and he sputtered,

"Thera?"


	2. Cosmic Family

**A/N:** Woah. Surprised about the support. Thanks, guys! Glad you enjoy the couple, even if they're fighting like little brats right now. ROFL.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 02 -** **Cosmic Family**

The Guardians' starship was quite spacious. Thera Moore couldn't grasp how; it looked small from the outside. So, she could only assume whoever built the thing planned its design meticulously.

Take the cockpit, for example. It fit over half a dozen theater-style seats below a bulbous 'windshield', yet she still stood more than an arm's length away from everyone else in the aisle—including Rocket Raccoon, the ex-assassin Gamora, Drax the Destroyer, Groot, Star Lord (minus the headgear), and, yes, Nova.

"Thera, what—?" Nova pulled off his black helmet, glaring. "Are you insane?"

"Oh, did you think I was gunna run back to the Triskelion?" Thera asked through pressed lips.

"Uh, _duh_!"

"Why? So I can watch Harpy chase Squirrel Girl and her friends? Or listen to Spider-Man and Tremor fall into another quip battle? Or maybe I could've gone back to Charlotte instead. Stayed with Virus and brooded."

"Spider-Man's weekend is full, actually."

"Oh, so there would've been one less person to guard me from Zabu."

"Zabu's friendly. Mostly."

"When you don't smell like _fish_! Just ask Triton!"

"Woah! Woah! Woah!" Star Lord interjected. He formed a 'T' with his hands and looked from one teen to the other. "You two dating?"

"What?" Thera cried. Or maybe that was Nova. Or both of them.

Star Lord shrugged. "Just sayin'. I know this sort'a tension and—"

"Oh, we aren't dating," Thera said. Admitting the truth stung her chest, although she didn't know why. Samuel could be too infuriating for words. "My _friend_ is just being pig-headed."

Nova snorted. "And you're acting like a creeper. Stalking me? Stowing away? Really?"

"She sneaked onboard without us realizing right away," Gamora added, arms folded. "Had it not been for The Milano's issues, it may've taken us longer to find her. That's an admirable trait for a warrior."

"Oh, I didn't learn that trick from SHIELD training," said Thera with a weak grin. "When you're a middle child to a farming family, you learn to play the 'ignored' role to its fullest. If I hadn't disappeared, I'd be stuck with my sisters, mucking stalls or weeding corn."

"So…you're a farmer?"

Thera mirrored Rocket Raccoon's hard stare. "Was. Sort've."

"I am Groot," Groot said with a nod and smile.

Rocket slapped the tree-being against his long leg. "No, she probably didn't talk with the crops. Idiot."

Wait; that phrase was actually a question? It meant something more?

"Not bad for a farmer's daughter."

"Whose side are you on, Master Gamora?" Nova asked.

The green woman blinked. "If she came this far, she must have a good reason. Why fault a woman for going after what she desires?"

"A friend of Sam's must surely be a battle-ready companion!" added Drax. Thera stumbled from the hand he beat against her back and rubbed the new tender spot as he continued. "I welcome her aboard."

"She invaded the ship!"

Gamora's arms unfolded, her weight shifting. "Relax, Sam. She is no threat, right? And we aren't busy at the moment."

"Besides," Star Lord butted in, "I ain't going back to Earth until we get our thrusters replaced. May as well get comfortable and start dinner; we're on a course for Krylor."

"What's a Kylor?" Thera questioned.

She turned away from Star Lord when he plopped himself in (presumably) the pilot's chair. But by the time she faced Nova again, his glare was darker. And she had no reply, other than a sheepish smile.

.

* * *

Although Star Lord talked throughout dinner, his stories fell on deaf ears. Thera sensed Nova's displeasure from across the table. Between Gamora and Groot (who seemed eager for conversation, despite Thera's ignorance of his language), she felt out of place, bare, open, like…

Dare she say it? A fish out of water.

' _He wanted to ditch me this weekend and I'm the one feeling bad? That's not fair! Oh, why does he have to be such a—'_

"Thera? Uh, Fin? Girl with the scales?"

Thera straightened in her seat, gaze snapping to Star Lord. "Yah, Sir?"

"Ooh, 'Sir'?" The brunette flashed a smirk at his crew. "At least someone around here shows me a little respect."

"Let her get to know you," said Gamora flatly. "That will change."

"Why you gotta be so hateful? I'm your leader!"

"That's debatable," Rocket said towards his near-empty plate.

Star Lord sent the raccoon-creature a grimace, which melted into an easy grin by the time he faced Thera again. "Family, eh?"

The mutant's smile felt heavy as she nodded. Yeah, family—cosmic or otherwise—were something else, for sure.

"Anyways, you didn't answer my question."

"Which question, Sir?"

"Why'd you sneak aboard? You're one of those 'Earth-bound' sort'a people, am I right?"

"Even small town girls need to get out every once in a while."

"But outer space really isn't a place for someone like you," Nova interjected.

Thera's eyes burned when they landed on the tan teen, who looked disinterested, save for a subtle frown. "Why?" she asked.  
"Because I wear a moisture-containment suit?"

"Among other things."

"Oh, forgive me for being a space noob."

"Seriously, Thera. You could get hurt."

"I can get hurt anywhere."

"At least on Earth, there're guaranteed water sources."

"You're just mad because you didn't notice me following you."

"That's beside the point. You weren't _made_ for space!"

"Then what _was_ I made for, Sam?" Thera's hiss stilled the kitchen. She sensed every one look her way, but their attention paled under the stormy green eyes that caused her webbed hands to curl. "I never _asked_ to be born with the X-Gene, ya know? I'm _stuck_ wearing scales and fins. I smell. I'm slimy. And I secrete poison whenever I'm upset.

"Despite all that, I won't limit myself. I may need to breathe underwater for a few hours a day. And yeah, I become paralyzed when I dry out. But those quirks can't stop me from being there for the few people in the universe who I trust…even if those people don't believe I can do it."

A moment passed where no one spoke. Thera kept her chin up, eyes narrowed. Nova remained impassive across the table. Which seemed odd, unnatural.

"Ya know," Star Lord said, breaking the tension, "that can be said for everyone here, Thera. Fin."

"Oh, ju—just call me Thera, Sir."

"Okay, now 'Sir' is starting to make me feel old." The brunette tipped his seat back then placed both his boots against the table's lip to keep steady. "Anyways, we never asked for the roles we've led. I mean, I never wanted to be abducted. Gamora probably could've lived a good life without being trained as an assassin. Then ya got Rocket. What happened to Drax. And…whatever's going on with Groot."

"I am Groot."

"Whatever, Stretch. Point is: we gotta make-do with what we got. Dwelling is useless. That's why I go with the flow."

Gamora blanched. "And hold no guilt over anything."

"Live and let go, Gamora. Forget. It's healthier."

A startling bang against the table rattled the dishes and Thera's nerves. "I will _never_ forget of what Thanos has done to my family!"

Star Lord chuckled—almost nervously. "Except you, Drax. You're special."

Thera smiled as the Destroyer cross his beefy arms. His white eyes narrowed. He flared his nostrils and hunched his stout head into his muscular neck. Yet the mutant felt far from threatened.

In fact, pangs of jealousy hit her chest. If only her family cared as much. Or even a fraction of the passion Drax showed. Maybe then they would've never gaped at her like she was a monster…

"It's not that I lack faith in you, Thera." Nova's calm voice lifted Thera's prickling vision. "We're just cut out for separate things. Besides, I told you I needed time alone."

"You also said we're friends," Thera replied, gentle. "As a friend, I wanna help. I wanna know you better. I wanna meet the people who trained you. I wanna see _your_ family. Why does that make me a bad person?"

"They're like any other family," Nova said with a shrug.

"No, they're not." Glancing around the table, Thera met everyone's gaze—from a Halfling to a tree to a creature to green-skinned beings—before facing her friend again. "The Guardians were brought together by goals, circumstances, and a brotherhood. Not blood. Sometimes…those are the strongest families."

"If you miss family so much, why not visit your own?"

Was that a joke? Obviously not, since Nova flinched as soon as Thera's fists hit the table. He knew not to mention them. He knew what happened with her sisters and parents. How could he?

"Thera," he said, sighing, "I'm sorry. I just wish you had—"

She held up a webbed hand. "Maybe unlike them, you should give me a chance to prove myself before you assume anything."

The teen had excuses at the ready; Thera sensed it in the way his arms moved. However, she stood, silencing his fumbles by saying,

"Thanks for dinner, Sam, but I—I'm going to find someplace to sit for a while. I'll see you when we reach Kylor."

The mutant had no idea where she was heading when she left the kitchen. If worse came to worse, she'd return to the engine room. Her suit would keep her moist and maybe the noise would drown out the question Star Lord ask Nova just before the doors closed behind her:

"You _sure_ you two aren't dating?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Quill isn't convinced. :D


	3. Supernova

**A/N:** Feels like it's been forever. Ugh. I can't tell you how painful this was, but here you have it. Oh, and FWI: I meld a bit of history in this chapter. It's mostly comic derived since little of Sam's past is explained in the show.

Now, enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 03 -** **Supernova**

Krylor's atmosphere was thin and frigid, much like the peak of Mount Everest. Few could weather it outside of an environmental suit, but did that keep Fin aboard The Milano? Course not. She had no qualms wearing a helmet—something about racing Go-Karts in her childhood—and after a quick debrief about Nitrogen-Oxygen stability and gravitational differentiation, the Guardians split up. As luck would have it, Sam found himself stuck with Rocket, Groot, and, ugh, Fin.

' _Damn Quill. I hope his side trip goes sour._ '

"So everything here is…"

Sam sent Fin a straight face, having barely caught her muffled accent in the boisterous crowd. "Technically illegal. Yes."

"And this place runs under the radar? How? It's huge!"

"Personal interests keep it secret. That and its core operators are big wigs of sorts."

"Are they Krylorian?"

Sam snorted. "Hell if I know. We don't question, just buy."

"This is amazing."

Amazing? That's the word she used to describe a glorified junkyard?

"Look at all the different ships!"

"Will you stop gawking, Fin? These people prey on naive-looking people like you."

"What's this one?"

Sam lacked the will to look over his shoulder and groaned.

"Knock off the chatter, will ya?" Rocket asked, growling. "We gotta pick up speed before my contact sells our thrusters out from under us."

"Don't look at me," Sam said. "Fin's the one moving at the pace of a Sheed."

"Hey!" Fin cried from behind. "I have no idea what a Sheed is, but I'm offended!"

"So go back to the ship and guard it with Drax before some slave trader mistakes you for a mutated Saurid."

Sam snorted and half-expect a snappy comeback or whine. There was none. Whirling, he searched the long isle of dismantled star ships and diverse aliens in hopes of a familiar space suit.

' _Don't tell me she actually—_ '

"I am Groot."

Sam twisted, almost smashing into Groot's wooden chest. The suddenness drew his gaze upwards, to the smiling tree creature and the white-clad female who sat on his shoulders.

"At least someone is being a gentlemen," Fin said, tart.

Sam's eyes turned skyward. Why had he been worried again? Scratch that; he hadn't been worried, just annoyed.

"Jeez, is something wrong, Sam?"

"No. Why?"

"You look ready to scrap."

The Centurion glanced down. Only then did he feel the heat through his fists, the tension in his muscles, and realize that he floated. With a scoff, he lowered himself then crossed his arms.

"Wait, were you—"

Sam cut off Fin, "Get used to the gravity already. Groot isn't your personal chauffeur."

"Oh, give me a break. This is my first alien planet!"

"I am Groot."

"Yah!" Thera cheered. "You tell him."

"You have no idea what he just said," Sam spat.

"Neither do you. Call it a feeling. He doesn't mind helping, right?"

Groot nodded, repeating his phrase. Traitor.

"Whatever." Sam sighed. "Let's just get moving."

"Oh, fine, but…where did Rocket go?"

"Gee. We lost him? Imagine that."

"Does this mean we get to look at ships then?"

"What's with you and the damn ships?"

"Some of us didn't get to play in outer space when we were young, _Sam_. Daddy only had a tractor, although Uncle Bernie—"

"I wasn't playing, I was training!"

"In a way, so was I. But I didn't get to leave the farm, let alone the planet."

"Because _you_ belong on Earth!"

"Uff da! Are we going there again?"

"I am Groot?"

"What?" Sam and Fin screamed in unison, facing Groot with glares.

The tree's lengthening arm revealed a small device in his grasp. From it, Rocket's gruff voice bellowed,

"Where are you idiots? Groot's got my PDA!"

Sam's attention fell on the pouch hanging from Groot's slender hips. "Why does Groot have—?"

"Just meet me at the north-west side, Kid, by the ship yard."

With that, the devise silenced, leaving Sam's eye to twitch as Fin giddily added,

"Ship yard, eh?"

* * *

Everything in the ship yard looked ancient to Sam's standards—from the faded paint across what ships were whole to the loose hardware that filled mounds of bins around Rocket's so-called contact.

"You sure this guy is good for thrusters?" Sam asked his old mentor.

"For this many units, he'd better be," Rocket snarled. His paw twitched against his thigh, eyes narrowed at the shabby Krylorian who raised his three-fingered hands.

"Easy, friend," the merchant said in a trilling voice. "We broke out of prison together. Remember?"

"I remember being left."

The Krylorian chuckled. "I had no idea you were so far behind."

"Uh-huh." Rocket's eyelids lowered as he outstretched a paw and sneered. "Show me the merchandise, Kit."

"Yes, Yes," Kit said. "About that—"

A gasp sounded.

"Fin," Sam growled, "I thought we told you not to touch anything!"

Fin and Groot turned simultaneously. Behind them, a covered cruiser sat on metallic braces and it wobbled before its nose dented the ground with a dull crack. Fin waved away the dust it stirred, backpedaling as Groot shoved a twisted, metal pipe in her arms.

"I am Groot!"

"Hey!" she cried. "You touched it first!"

"I can't take you kids anywhere, can I?" Rocket asked, throat rumbling.

"I—we—uh—" Fin glanced at the pipe then bent back to peer under the tarp. "Oh, we just wanted a look. What's wrong with that?"

"It's just like any other salvaged junk here," Sam said. And to prove his point, he flew towards the covered heap.

Kit protested earnestly when Sam grabbed a corner of the tarp. The Centurion ripped it off anyways, an easy task considering his suit's capabilities. Beneath lay a compact cruiser, whose sharp wings fanned in several directions like a lion's mane. Its gold and teal decal work had been distressed by battle wounds and age, but it looked familiar—so much so that Sam felt as if Krylor's cold winds bit through his armor.

"I'll be damned," Rocket said. He stood beside Sam and directed behind him, "How'd someone like you get their hands on a Nova Corps Starcruiser?"

"Well," Kit paused, "I, uh, I didn't salvage it from Xandar in one piece. That's for sure."

Sam lifted his hand, hovering it above the cruiser's nose. Dare he touch it? Why'd he even care? It was a stupid machine, from a lost age. Yet he couldn't help wondering…had his father manned it once?

"Sam?"

Ignoring the thumps in his ears, Sam found Fin. She had replaced Rocket at some point and despite the glare over her visor, he knew she frowned in concern.

"I'm fine," the Hispanic said. "It's just…"

"Your Dad was Nova Corps, wasn't he? A Supernova?"

"Stalker much."

"It's in SHIELD's files. Not exactly secret."

"According to Fury, it should be."

A silent moment passed as Fin shifted. "Anyways, are they really that rare then? The ships, I mean."

"Xandar was annihilated," whispered Sam. He hated how his tone wavered. "A civilization crumbled. People died. My father was the only survivor and then…forget it. Let's just get the thrusters and—"

"Oi, Kit was it?"

"Thera, what are you doing?" Sam asked in an undertone.

Fin placed an arm akimbo and pointed the other at the Krylorian who cowered under Rocket's blaster. "Yes, you, Sir. How much for the ship?"

"Y—you can't be serious," Kit answered.

"How much?"

"I don't need a starcruiser."

"Well maybe _I_ want one, Sam. Not everything is about you." The mutant huffed, but somewhere in her body language, Sam sensed she wasn't being selfish.

"So…you want to fly?" Kit's expression looked every bit as dubious as he sounded.

"Something wrong?" Fin retorted.

"Cruisers have surrounded me my whole life. A little thing like you obviously can't tell the difference between primary event controls and simple navigation."

" _Excuse me_?"

"Something wrong with being little?" Rocket asked with a snarl.

"What? No! I'm just saying she's no pilot."

"Bet I could figure it out," Thera said, arms crossed.

"Now that I think about it," Rocket started, "a cruiser like that could come in handy."

"I am Groot."

"I know, big guy. But there ain't any ship out there I can't restore."

"You're really interested?" Kit red eyes widened and his nervous smile steadied. "In that case, why not put away the blaster and find a reasonable business approach?"

"Or maybe I should shoot you and take it all," Rocket countered, his weapon all aglow.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Kit's arms flailed. "I'll slash my prices."

"That's what you said before we hauled our asses into this dump!"

"I mean it. Really. The cruiser isn't cheap, as you can guess. But…"

"But what, bird-man?"

"Perhaps we can make matters interesting with a bet?"

Slowly, Rocket's gun fell, a smirk tugging at his snout. "I'm listening."

"Good." Kit grinned. "You see, I hold a quality guarantee. All my merchandise functions, no exceptions. Even that cruiser."

"You're saying this clunker actually runs?" Sam chimed in.

"Just like back in its prime. I'll bet your thrusters on it."

"Hold it"—Rocket shouldered his weapon—"if you know it runs, why sabotage yourself?"

Kit's grin widened. "Make a full circle around Krylor in the cruiser, you get both it and your thrusters. Free."

"I like free."

"However, _she_ must fly it."

Sam swore Thera turned as white as her suit. "M—me?" she croaked.

"Where'd your confidence go, little one?" asked Kit.

"Well, I—I, uh—"

"If you aren't up for the challenge, you can always pay the one-point-five-million units for it."

Sam gawked. "One-point-five million?"

"Are you kiddin' me?" Rocket added.

"I am Groot!"

"It's a collectable," Kit continued, waving a three-fingered hand. "So do we have a deal, or not?"

"I'm leaning towards the shooting idea," Rocket said.

"Like I mentioned earlier, before you held me a gun-point: I'm the only one with thrusters that will keep your ship running for cycles to come. If you want lesser quality, feel free to check the market's remainder."

"I'm down for a fight if you are," Sam whispered towards his mentor.

"We could take him, but I'm running low on contacts," Rocket whispered back. "Guess we got no choice." Growling, the raccoon-like-creature clenched his paws then directed a scowl at Fin. "You're up, Scales!"

"Huh? O—okay then."

"See what you did?" Sam asked Fin with a sigh.

She chuckled as Rocket opened the cruiser's cockpit to check inside. "Is it weird saying that instead of being told it?"

The Centurion blanched. "You've been nothing but a headache this whole trip."

"Now you know how everyone else feels."

"You'll die."

"I flew a lot with my Uncle Bernie when I was younger. He was a crop duster."

"This isn't a crop duster, Thera."

"Basics are basics. Besides, Kit never said Rocket can't give me a crash course on controls."

"You're really doing this?"

"You betcha!"

"Why?"

"Because you don't have money to buy it outright?"

"No"—Sam's voice lowered, his gaze catching Fin's through her visor—"why?"

"Because you _are_ Nova Corps," she said, gentle. "This belongs with you, not some scavenger…"

"Hey, Scales!" Rocket screamed from above. "Am I talkin' to myself here?"

"No, Sir; sorry," Fin replied. She left Sam then let Groot lift her into the cockpit.

' _Idiot_ ,' Sam thought. ' _What's she trying to prove?_ '

"I am Groot?"

"Worried?" The teen scoffed and ignored the tree's kind gaze. "More like frustrated. Whatever happened to simple? I was supposed to see some cool Krylorian tech. Maybe get a new toy or maybe run into a fight, but this? This is ridiculous and—" Sam cut himself short with a shiver. "Ugh, I'm starting to sound like Ava."

"I am Groot." Groot's lanky fingers met the Hispanic's shoulder, clutching it until Sam sighed.

"Step away, Kid."

A petite yet stern paw pushed Sam in the gut. He followed his ex-mentor's lead and flew backwards while the cockpit sealed Thera inside. She sent a wave through the slender windows, undoubtedly smiling. The site alone lifted the teen's stomach into his throat.

"Let's forget the cruiser, okay?" he asked Kit. "This is stupid. Master Rocket, tell him."

Rocket kept his attention trained on the Nova Starcruiser. It flared to life with ungodly sounds, blowing aside rocks and debris as its eight wings creaked into place.

"Master Rocket!"

"She's got this, Kid." Rocket's words were almost lost under the cruiser's hums. "She ain't in my league, but Scales surprised me."

"Are you joking?"

"Nah. Apparently the controls are similar to a—what'd she call it? Crop duster? Whatever that is."

Sam face-palmed.

Had everyone gone insane today? Or had they always been this way and it troubled Sam now because Thera involved herself so strongly? She wasn't a pilot or space traveler. She was meant for the water, Earth's water, and she left that behind for what? For him—to be with him and his family.

And he was letting her risk her life for a lost cause.

"Thera, wait!"

Sam's call came all too late. His fingertips brushed the Nova cruiser when it sped by in a blur of yellow and blue and he tensed at the faint scream that sounded from within. He couldn't help himself; he drifted upwards, watching the ship bank hard near the ground.

"Come on, Scales," Rocket said. "Pull up, not sideways."

The cruiser whined and its lower wings clipped several other merchants' displays and racks.

"A full circle, remember?" Kit asked.

Sam glared at the Krylorian, killing Kit's smile.

"Pull up, Scales! _Up_!"

Perhaps the power behind Rocket's cry carried further than Sam ever thought possible; the starcruiser did as commanded. It raised, teal wings outstretched towards the sun it hurled towards like a spiky ball. Sam squinted into the light and kept still only because the ship's hum grew stronger.

"Ha!" Rocket whooped as the cruiser soared overhead. "That's what I'm talkin' about!"

"I am Groot!"

Sam didn't dare breathe a sigh of relief yet. The cruiser still trembled and he feared the wings would break off at a higher speed.

"I'm going with her," he said.

"How do I know you won't cheat?" Kit spat.

Sam had no reason to justify himself against the Krylorian. He left without a word and darted towards the starcruiser. He felt light by the time he reached it, although his adrenaline couldn't quite mask the weight in his chest as he knocked on the cockpit window.

"Thera?" he asked over his com link.

When he received no reply, he knocked again. Fin glanced up for a second, either too frightened or too focused to look elsewhere. He growled, knocking a third time. The mutant's eyes remained forward, but her hands search the control panels for a few buttons.

"Sam?" she asked. "Hello? Was that the right one?"

"About time!"

"Oh, hey. Ho—how do ya like my ship? Told you I could figure something out."

"That take off was horrible. And ease up on the throttle."

"Oh. Uh." The cruiser's hum lessened, but its speed remained consistent. "Better?"

"Yes. Now you can hear me when I say _get out_."

"No way! I'm doing what I said I would. Unlike some people."

Sam's lips grew taunt, his body unsteady from the ship's drag. "You want to start that now? While we're hurling around a planet?"

"No. I'd rather focus on flying. Thanks."

"This thing is a death trap."

"It's a piece of history, Samuel. Your history."

"I was never in the Nova Corps."

"But you're wearing a Centurion helmet, right?"

The cruiser banked a hard left, forcing Sam to dodge a secondary wing. He allowed Fin a chance for correction then returned to his spot by the window.

"How do you know so much about the Corps anyway?" he asked.

"You never talk about it, so…" Fin shrugged. "Guess your dad's death would make it a sore subject."

"Thera—"

"I understand. Really, I do. I just can't figure out which is worse: your dad dying, leaving you with a Supernova legacy, or watching him stare at you like you're the most disgusting thing in existence…" Fin's voice broke near the end, yet she kept her head high, inhaling slowly. "I get pushy. I know and I'm sorry. It's just who I am. Like how you're a hero."

"I haven't felt much like a hero lately," Sam whispered.

Fin's hands tightened around the controls. "If you care enough to wear that helmet—your father's helmet—then you should care enough to keep this ship from being perverted."

"You really think you can make it around Krylor?"

"Wanna bet?"

Sam smirked, and Fin looked up. She no longer wore a helmet, leaving her freckled face free to scrunch with a laugh. Sam felt drawn by the sound with no real reason as to why. It was no more unique than Ava's or Squirrel Girl's; however, it lent him enough drive to dash after the Nova cruiser when the mutant sped up.

* * *

 **A/N:** They're an old married couple, I swear. But hopefully, you'll understand where Sam's slight OOC nature is coming from. For those who read " _Path_ ", you know he's scared...Man, I really put him through the ringer in that book. Anywho-there are 3 chapters left to write and I have no guarantee when they'll be done. Thanks for reading! :D


	4. Interstellar

**A/N:** 2 more chapters to go after this. I'm getting back into the swing a bit, although my life is still rather busy and filled with sicknesses. Meh.

 _Sciencegal_ , I'm glad these kids amuse you. Because you know they aren't going anywhere. 3

FYI: the Sheeds mentioned in the last chapter and the Kuloth mentioned in this chapter are my original aliens. You won't find them in the Marvel database. XD

* * *

 **Chapter 04 -** **Interstellar**

Star Lord and Rocket Raccoon made Thera's head spin inside The Milano.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Star Lord yelled, arms animated.

"I was _thinkin'_ we'd save several thousand Units," Rocket counted with a growl. "We don't exactly have heavy pockets here, Quill."

"But a Nova Corps cruiser? Think of attention that'll draw!"

"Funny; I thought you liked attention."

Star Lord blanched under Rocket's smirk. "We have enough trouble with the Cree. You might as well stick a giant, neon sign on it that says 'Hey, Ronin, over here!'"

"Like our ship isn't a sign itself!"

"It is not," Drax interjected.

The duo sent the muscular man a dry look across the cockpit before glaring at each other once more.

"It won't stay forever," Rocket added. "Once refurbished, it'll sell for triple the price that Kit was asking for."

"And in the meantime we'll—what?—tote it around the star system?"

"To keep The Milano at top-shape, yes. Repairs ain't cheap and if Scales hadn't faked piloting so well, we'd be nearly two-million Units in the hole."

Thera frowned, gaze set on the four-foot tall creature. ' _I thought I was doing well,_ ' she thought. ' _He never mentioned he tempered with the altitude settings…_ '

"She has a knack," Rocket said, "but I needed a little insurance."

"We don't have time for side projects," Star Lord spat.

"This comin' from the guy who—"

"Enough!" Gamora's voice severed the concentration between Star Lord and Rocket like lightening. She pushed herself off the pilot's chair, movements swift as she approached. "Whatever the means, Fin won Kit's bet. To _her_ go the spoils."

"What?" the duo yelled together.

"She agreed," added Gamora. "She flew. She won. The cruiser is hers."

Four sets of eyes met Thera—one apathetic, one kind, and two indignant. "Uff da," she whispered.

"Fin"—Gamora stepped forward—"what would you like to do?"

"She can't even fly!" Rocket screamed. "Not really."

Gamora's green face crinkled with a frown. "That is beside the point, Rocket."

"You sayin' we should hand over a million Unit prize to a—"

"I never meant to cause trouble," Thera chimed in. She hadn't realized how tightly her hands clenched each other until she brought them to her chest. By then, they tingled. "I just…I don't know. For some reason, when I saw Sam looking at it I—I…"

"You did this for Sam?" asked Gamora.

Thera shrugged one shoulder. Honestly, she wasn't sure…

"The Kid _has_ been pretty attached to that thing ever since we left Krylor," Rocket said.

"It links to a finer part of his history," Gamora said with a sigh—a solemn gesture. "It may even provide further clues about his helmet's potential."

"Oh, so now it's research sanctioned." Groaning, Rocket rubbed his paws against his eyes then tugged at his fur.

"No," answered Gamora. Rocket huffed in frustration as she continued, "The choice is still Fin's. She can do with it as she wishes. Although it comes with a word of caution."

Thera met Gamora's intense gaze with a gulp. Either their bright yellow color or a dip in The Milano's oxygen level made the mutant sway, and she spread her feet for stability.

"I realize that if the Cree ever saw it, th—they'd want it destroyed," she said. "But…"

"But what, Scales?"

"Rocket, Sir, I want it. On Earth. SHIELD can keep it safe and maybe...maybe one day Sam…" Thera sighed, hands dropping to her sides.

"Bah, fine! A cruiser ain't worth this headache anyway."

Did Rocket mean that? Or was he actually being…nice?

Thera watched the mechanic push past his comrades' legs and head for the pilot's seat. "Thank you, Sir," she told him.

"Whatever," Rocket replied. He sounded just like Sam—down to the embarrassed undertone that gave away his sincerity.

"Speaking of our Nova hero," Star Lord started, "what's keeping him?"

"Good question," Gamora added.

Rocket snorted then pushed a button on the control panel. "Hey, Kid! Ya dead?"

"No, but I'm busy," Nova snapped over the com system. "These wings are in terrible shape and Fin's so-called flying strained them more than they should've been."

"How's that my fault?" Thera yelled across the cockpit.

" _You_ started the race."

"And _you_ started the barrel rolls!"

"Easy, young lovers," Star Lord interjected. Thera felt her face grow warm when he sent her a smirk. "The real issue here is if Nova notices anyone tailing us."

"It's just me and Groot, Quill. Soldering wings and patching holes."

"So"—Star Lord sauntered towards the pilot seat—"no sign of any Cree or…?"

"That Kuloth you tried to con? Not since he took a swing at you during takeoff."

"Good, good." Pausing, Star Lord noticed how everyone stared his way. "What? You act like I did something wrong." The staring continued. "Alright, alright. So we're low on Units—"

Rocket scoffed.

"We're low on Units," Star Lord repeated, "and I have a weakness for Queen."

Gamora quirked an eye ridge. "Who?"

"Queen. The British rock gods?"

No one replied or moved.

"Seriously? You guys aren't that depraved!"

"If they are gods then why are they referred to as 'Queen'?" Drax asked, white eyes squinted. "They are neither singular nor female…Are they?"

"What did you take, Star Lord Sir?" questioned Thera.

"A universal treasure," the leader answered with a grin. "It would've been a hard find, even on Earth."

"Please tell me you didn't risk banishment for music, Quill," Nova said.

Star Lord's grin persisted. "A Nineteen-Seventy-Seven first edition of 'News of the World'. On vinyl!"

"You had me push The Milano and this over-sized puffer ball into orbit so you could outrun a _music peddler_?" Nova's shrill tone jangled Thera's mind, tilting the room.

"A very _large_ music peddler. Thank you."

"…Master Rocket?"

"Way ahead 'a, Kid. Come here." Rocket snagged his leader by the ear. He wasn't gentle as he jumped off the chair, and the man twisted in uncomfortable ways to accommodate the arrangement while being dragged to the door.

"Come on, guys, you don't understand!" cried Star Lord. "I just got a record player last week and—"

"You're an idiot," Rocket finished. "Which is why you're gunna play go-for boy. Don't need much brains for that; even Groot can handle it."

"I am Groot."

"Quit your whinin', Stretch! You ain't out of a job. You're just gettin' company."

"But—"

The cockpit door cut off Star Lord. Thera vaguely heard their argument carry on, but understood when a fight had been lost. Sixteen years of being a middle child taught her that much.

"Well, since that is settled. Fin?"

Said mutant turned, attentive. "Yes, Miss Gamora?"

The green-skinned woman gave a small smile. "Would you like a real flight lesson?"

* * *

Thera's arms itched like the dickens and her focus was forced, but she followed Gamora's orders without hesitation.

"As is true with any machine, stability is key," Gamora said over the pilot seat's head rest.

Thera carefully steered The Milano, trying her best to remain calm. Who would've thought that she—Thera Moore—would be given the chance to fly not one, but two spacecrafts. In one day!

' _If only Daddy could see me. He always said I'd be the one to take after Uncle Bernie._ '

Although, maybe that wouldn't be for the best. Not when she was still...

"Fin!"

Thera straightened. "Yes?"

"Are you listening?"

"O—of course, Ma'am."

"Then why have you stopped?"

Stopped?

Thera's gaze found Gamora then Drax followed by The Milano's curved windshield. The stars that had once whipped by in gentle strides now sat stagnantly against bright violet clouds. Their brilliance was stunning and enveloped the mutant in a warmth that made her fear she had been hugged by a ghost.

"Fin?"

"Forgive me, Miss Gamora," said Thera.

"Something wrong?" Gamora asked.

"No. Well. Kind'a, but—"

"We should stop then."

"No!" Thera craned her neck to give the older woman a pleading look. "I just got caught up in the view. We don't see anything like this back at home. At least, not in Charlottesville."

"Of course you cannot," Drax noted.

Thera gave 'Mister Literal' a look then sighed. "Earth's been so polluted that barely a few stars can be seen in the cities. Where I was born, though? That's another story."

The redhead picked around the metal guard on her forearm, unsure if she should continue, but both Drax and Gamora remained silent.

"During the winter, my father would take me and my sisters to the highest hill on our farm," she said. "He'd bundle us, draw us close, and we'd lie in the snow for hours. We'd point out constellations, drink cocoa, and talk…until we fell asleep."

"It is a beautiful memory, Fin," Gamora stated.

"And that's _all_ it is, isn't it?" Fin spat. She cringed then dug deeper under her arm guard. "Back then, I felt so empowered by my family that I—I swore we could grab onto the Milky Way's arm together. I miss that feeling."

"Many times I long for my wife's touch or my daughter's laughter," Drax added, lost in memory.

Gamora tapped Drax's shoulder briefly and with a quiet sigh. "I was young when the Cree destroyed my home world. But despite Thanos' best efforts, my parent's love could never be erased. Their hold is something I kept safely buried at the back of my mind."

"How have you endured it for so long?"

"Endured?"

Thera's teeth clenched as her sticky fingers moved from her forearm to a scale patch on her collarbone. Something awful stung her nose when she began scratching again, but Gamora's confusion left little room for concern.

"Have you ever looked back on a memory and wished you could stay in it forever?" she whispered. "Or is that just me…being a kid?"

"Loss knows no age limitation," Gamora replied. "It is painful; however, pain is also what shapes us into the people we are meant to be."

"I _hate_ it when others say that!" Fin slammed a hand against her leg and it slipped. "Fury, Iron Fist, the therapist—everyone! It doesn't make anything okay. I still hear the gunshots, the screams. My family's gasps as they scrambled to get away from me. Me, their daughter, their sister! All because I was born with X-Gene. What"—the mutant sniffled—"what sort of lesson is there in _that_?"

"Sometimes…there is no lesson," Gamora said. At least she wasn't lying like the adults on Earth. "I learned little from my parent's love. It became an anchor instead, something I could latch onto when the world crumbled beneath my feet."

"Remembering my family's faces is what fuels my revenge!" Drax inserted with a growl. "They give me drive to move forward, to fight. To become a destroyer."

"Loss is unique, Fin, as is the coping method. My loss is a reminder; a reason to make sure no one else suffers like I did. For Drax, it keeps a fire burning inside him. Our pain is not gone, nor will it ever be. But we _choose_ how it motivates us. So should you."

Thera shook her head.

Was there really a choice in pain? Who would choose to have pain? She wasn't talking about a bruise or broken leg. This wound cut deeper than that.

It left her terrified. Terrified she'd never see home again. Terrified prejudice would worsen between humans and mutants. Terrified that…that she'd become the monster her family assumed she was.

"Ow…"

"Fin?"

Thera blinked. She wanted to cry so badly, yet her burning eyes remained dry. She glanced down at her hand and rubbed her webbed fingers. They stuck together with scale bits and blood. No, something thicker than blood. Or mixed with it.

"Fin, your arm!" Gamora reached across Thera. The armguard unlatched not longer after and what lie beneath the metal stunk and stung. "Your fins are bleeding."

Thera hardly had the chance to note the jagged separation along her skin before her parched throat closed up further and her focus waned completely.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thera has her own issues she's been burying...Small town girl misses Enderlin and those in it. Next chapter is already in the works. Got an idea about the end as well, so it shouldn't too much time before this story wraps up. In the meantime, review? :D


	5. Dark Matter

**A/N:** Things get a little heavy here. Teens with baggage, man.

Sciencegal, Sam is on it. :P

* * *

 **Chapter 05 -** **Dark Matter**

Sam slammed a palm against the door control to the Milano's cockpit, dashing inside the moment he could slip through the parting metal. "What happened?" he asked Gamora.

Gamora held Fin's head in her lap and hardly glanced up. "I am uncertain."

"She collapsed," Drax added.

"So you mentioned over the com!" Sam snapped. "I mean, how?"

"Again, uncertain," Gamora said gruffly. "We were talking before I noticed her fins."

' _Fins?_ ' Sam thought.

He followed Gamora's gaze to the mutant's naked arm. Without a bracer, her white and red stripped scales stood on end, from her hand to her elbow. An amber-colored ooze secreted between them, collecting in clumps around several thin spikes along her forearm's outer side.

' _How long as she had fins there?_ '

"Sam"—Gamora caught Sam's attention—"her skin is cracking."

"I bet I know why, too," replied Sam. Kneeling, he gagged at the musky, almost bitter, smell that wafted up from the ooze then looked over the controls of the discarded bracer beside Thera. A screen along the top side read in flashing letters:

 _WARINING: H2O LEVEL CRITICAL_

Figures.

"Quill!" Sam yelled. He had heard the man stumble into the cockpit and gathered Thera in his arms without sparing him a glance. "How are The Milano's water reserves?"

"Uh, scarce," Star Lord answered. "We haven't filled them since—"

Sam whirled, gaze heated as his feet left the ground. "Find a place to fill them. Now."

It wasn't often the Centurion gave Star Lord orders, but no one questioned him. Not that Sam gave much chance for a reply; the man fell into Rocket and Groot when the teen sped towards the bathroom. He could hear the blood thumping in his ears and he questioned why.

Thera wasn't dead. He could help. And, really, this was all her fault to begin with!

So then why did her contorted expression make his heart race?

Sam scowled, ignoring the idea as he landed in the compact shower. He hit the button that sealed its glass door then pushed another to start the water flow. It hit like ice daggers against his chin, but he knew cold water would be best. Thera had told him so once.

"Fin?" he asked, nudging the mutant in his lap. "Thera!"

The redhead groaned.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Sam continued. He released her second bracer then pulled her body further up in the cramped space.

She trembled, red scales lifting and flattening with the motion. "Sam?" she asked, groggy. "What…?"

"You passed out, genius."

"I did?"

"Yeah. Why didn't you keep track of your H2O levels?"

"I—I have been."

"Obviously not well enough."

"No." Thera shook her head. "I—I checked. Just before Kylor. There—there was enough until home."

"Did you not have science in hick country?"

Thera shifted so her flipper-feet met the shower's back wall then twisted her head. The raining water plastered chunks of her bangs across her speckled face, although her glare was unmistakable.

"SHIELD designed your suit to retain moisture," Sam added. "Not generate it."

"So?"

"It was designed for _Earth's_ atmosphere. Krylor must've made it work overtime to compensate for that."

"But"—the mutant huffed—"I had the second suit. The Environmental one."

"Which is also artificial. Now do you see why you should've stayed?"

Bright eyes turned stony. "Will you stop saying that?" Thera cried. She hit Sam in the shoulder. "Just stop…stop _saying_ that."

"I don't get ya, Thera. Space is easily the worst place in the universe for you."

"It's no more dangerous than for any other Earthling."

"Hello?" Sam knocked on the mutant's head. "Do you even register that we're soaking in a shower right now?"

Silent, Thera starred at her webbed hands. Deep red cracks ran through her palms and she flinched when they flexed and bled.

"You really don't want me then?" She whispered so softly, the water cascading over the teens almost drowned her words.

"It's not that I don't want you," Sam said. "It's just—you—" Sam groaned. Why did girls always overcomplicate things?

"My family didn't want me either…"

The teen felt a jab through his chest. "Ther—"

"Oh, maybe I was being stupid," Thera interjected. Her Mid-Western accent sounded unnaturally cold. "But I…I wanted to prove something."

"Like what? How quickly you can annoy a new team? Congrats."

"No! That…that I don't have to be limited by this _stupid mutation_!"

Thera pounded a fist against the shower's glass wall. It made little noise, but jolted Sam all the same. He slipped off his helmet and let it drop in the shallow water as the mutant sat upright.

"I thought you were happy," he said.

"Happy? _Happy_?" The mutant laughed—a sardonic sound. "I don't fit in anywhere. I can't even pretend to be normal."

"Normal ain't all it's cracked up to be."

"Says the one who can walk a street or go to a movie. I don't get that chance anymore, Sam. When I take off my uniform do you know what's underneath?"

"Uh…" Face heated, Sam rubbed the nape of his neck.

"This!" Thera held her hands to Sam's face, so he could see the stripped webbing and slime between her bloody fingers. When she lowered them, her jaw quivered, hindering her next words, "You, your team, Zeelan, Sean, even Kazzar can live outside SHIELD. Me? I'm trapped. I smell like a harbor, and…I'm trapped."

"I'm sorry, Thera, I thought"—Sam paused—"I thought you were okay with SHIELD."

"It isn't SHIELD, Sam. It's me."

"There's nothing wrong with you."

Thera jerked her head up when the Hispanic stiffened. "Aside from Nova, you're Samuel Alexander," she said in a dead tone. "They say keeping two identities is hard, but I would kill for a chance to be Enderlin's Thera Moore again. I miss it. I miss _them_."

"Who?" Sam asked.

Thera's teeth chattered as her legs curled. "Papa. Mum. K—Kenzie. Kyrin. Erol."

"Who's Eorl?"

"My best friend since middle school. My confidant. My swimming partner. We shared everything. Everything except for…for…" Fighting for control left the redhead gasping and she pulled at her shoulder guards, even though they sat a ways from her neck gills. "I like helping others. Really, I do. But I…I won't be a hero forever. And what will I have afterwards? Certainly not a—a boyfriend. What kind of a guy would dig _this_?"

Sam frowned, watching Thera run a hand from the secondary gills along her exposed waistline to her webbed feet.

"Maybe Triton would," she added in an undertone.

Somehow, Sam disliked that mental image.

"Then again," she continued, "he may find a lovely Inhumman to settle down with. How do ya like that? Even the full-on fish guy has a palace to return to. A _palace_ , Sam!" Thera assaulted the wall again, and Sam felt assured her tears replenished as soon as the water washed them away.

"Thera—" Sam stopped himself—first struck by the sob that folded the redhead in half then by the increased ooze seeping from her scales.

"I'm sorry I forced myself here," Thera cried over the water's pitter-patter. "I just wanted to help."

"Like wanting to visit outer space played no part." The Centurion did his best to smirk, although the jest and Thera's venom only soured his stomach. "Look, I wanted to talk later because the…the Yoon-Bea situation still confuses me. I wanted to come to these guys first because they—they understand. They're criminals. Past criminals, but they've done their fair share of regretful things and—"

"You _were_ gunna talk with me then? You weren't gunna…leave?"

It was hard meeting Thera's blood-shot eyes through her hanging bangs, but Sam managed it with a curt nod. She broke then. Her arms wrapped around the Hispanic's waist as she buried her head into his chest, sobbing further. He turned flush in her weak hold and the heartbeat in his ears returned tenfold.

His first instinct wanted him to push her away; he felt so conflicted whenever they hugged. But when his hand landed on her shoulder guard, he noticed her protruding spine through breaks in her outfit. The discolored scar tissue over where her spikes once grew was a grim reminder of Jessica Collier, so Sam returned the hug instead, gaze set on the red and amber swirls that emptied into the shower drain.

* * *

"How's she holding up?" Star Lord asked Sam.

Sam released a slow sigh, sinking into The Milano's co-pilot seat. "She cried herself to sleep. Gamora's looking over her now."

"Harsh," Star Lord said while pouting. "Gamora never looks over me when I'm hurt."

"Because usually you get hurt from your own stupidity."

"What was that?"

"I said it was a mystery, Sir. And thanks for refueling on water, just in case."

"Thought so." The man chuckled until Sam frowned. "Oh, boy. I know that look. A change of clothes not make you feel any better?"

"When does it ever?" Sam countered. He sighed again then leaned back in his seat to gloss over the purple-pink clouds looming outside.

"Are we talking about Fin still? Or something else?"

Sam remained silent.

"You mentioned some pretty dark stuff yesterday," Star Lord continued. "It's a lot to shoulder alone."

"You do it."

"To a point. Some things I just gotta let go."

"That won't work this time, Quill."

"Why not?"

Star Lord didn't ask to be skeptical; he asked to make Sam think honestly. And the more honestly Sam thought, the more his muscles tensed.

"I wasn't being a hero," he said lowly. "I messed up, and another family paid the price."

"We can't control everything."

"But this was something in mycontrol. That's what made the meeting worse. I can apologize all I want, but words won't bring back the Yoon-Beas' baby."

Their baby. The phrase sunk like hot metal in Sam's chest.

"The Yoon-Beas are—"

"The name of the family I told you about."

"When'd you meet them?"

"Not long ago. Few weeks?" Sam shrugged, although the action was forced. "Fury put me in contact. He knew that…that I wanted to see them after I recovered from Collier's lab."

"Whose lab?"

The Hispanic ran a hand through his drying hair. "A lady who kidnapped me last May."

"Wait. _What_?"

"I'll tell about her another time."

"You sure?" Star Lord's question brought attention to how Sam clenched his pants legs.

The teen scowled at his white knuckles. "Yes! Maybe. I—I don't know."

"What _do_ you know?" Although Star Lord's voice was too soft for his status, the fatherly vibe made the heat in Sam's chest burn hotter.

"I know I wanna stop feeling this way," whispered Sam. "I wanna sleep again. I wanna close my eyes without hearing Weir or that madwoman's voice. Or thinking about how _stupid_ I was to let a baby _die_!"

"Hey!" Star Lord turned in his seat. "You'd never let anyone die."

"Tell that to Mister Yoon-Bea!" Sam sniffled, unsure when he had stood up or started crying. "He called me a murderer," the teen added.

Star Lord shook his head. "I know what a murderer is, Kid. You aren't one."

"That—that's doesn't make me feel better."

"Then what would? I'll do my best, but"—the older man quirked a morbid smile—"I'm not the most put-together guy."

"I don't care!" Sam yelled with clenched fists. God, he sounded like such a baby. "I never wanted to talk about this stuff with that parrot-nosed windbag Fury calls a therapist. She isn't like you guys; she doesn't _know_ what it's like to be taken against your will or hunted. She…she doesn't _get_ me and…I'm tired of her digging."

"Alright; I won't dig," Star Lord said. His tension had eased at one point and he now manned The Milano with calm hands. "As hard as it'll be, I'll listen. Whatever you're holding back just…say it."

Was it really that easy? Not likely. After so many months, Sam wasn't sure where to start. But he knew he had to try, for his own sake. So he rubbed his face into his shirt, riding it of tears and snot, and then settled back in his seat with a deep sigh.

"Well, there were these guys called The Trackers…"

* * *

 **A/N:** In Sam's defense, he had been kidnapped and tortured by two different people in under a month. That's not easy to bounce back from. But if anyone's a master at bouncing back, it's Star Lord. As for Thera. Well. Enderlin has left her with abandonment issues...

Only one more chapter left to go! Should be up soon. :D


	6. Afterglow

**A/N:** OMG. Sweet Hallelujah. This. Chapter. Is. Done. It was painful - I won't lie - but it's DONE.

So enjoy the conclusion to " _Gravitation_ ".

* * *

 **Chapter 06 -** **Afterglow**

The Milano was oddly quiet, and Thera couldn't help fearing that she was the reason why.

Oh, what had possessed her to make such a scene? A little dehydration? No; that had only given her a headache and tested a dam she hadn't realized was fractured.

' _I thought I was okay_ ,' she thought, roaming a round room. _'But I guess I do miss Enderlin…_ '

Did that make her trip selfish? Instead of helping Sam, she became a burden. Way to go, Thera.

The mutant sighed. Then, a door hissed behind her.

"Forget it, Quill. I ain't listenin' to any more Earth garbage."

"Queen isn't garbage, Rocket. Even the Kuloth understood that."

"Ya mean the one who tried to squash yer head?"

"See? Now why would he do that if Queen was worthless?"

"I dunno. Maybe because he's a _Kuloth_? Ya don't steal from Kuloths, Quill! They're one of the most vindictive races in the known universe."

"What? Scared, Ranger Rick?"

"Not scared, Hypocrite. Annoyed. Ya were givin' me grief about the cruiser when ya—"

"Uh." Thera waved for attention. When she had it, she smiled. "Hello. What's with the swim trunks, Sir?"

"Fin," Star Lord said. "When'd you get up?"

Thera shrugged. She hadn't seen any clocks since leaving Earth. Which made sense. Each planet used its own calendar and outer space had no need for time.

"Who cares when?" Rocket asked. "How ya holdin' up?"

"Not so bad," Thera started, "but I—I wanted to apologize."

The Guardians exchanged looks.

"What for?" asked Star Lord.

"Everything, Sir. I never got permission to come aboard and I didn't think my suit would—"

Star Lord held up a hand. "Let's pause there. First, I said stop calling me 'Sir'. Second, do we look like a group who asks for permission? Ever?"

"Uh…"

"Personally, I hate stowaways. But seeing as how you're Sam's friend, I let things slide. And that was that."

"Sir—Star Lord, I—"

"Quill's got a point," added Rocket. "No use in gripin'."

"Oh, I'm not griping!" Thera cried.

"Why ya still talkin' then?"

"Because I feel terrible about the trouble I've caused!"

Star Lord sniggered.

"Look, Scales. Only trouble around here comes from this guy." Rocket jabbed a thumb at his leader, who blanched. "And if he plays any rubbish while I'm fixin' the thrusters, I'll break out the flame thrower."

"Dude!" Star Lord sidestepped. "Uncool!"

"The thrusters died?" questioned Thera.

Rocket gave a curt nod. "That's what happens when idiots abuse their cruisers and don't change faulty equipment before takeoff."

"I have been nothing but gentle with my Milano," Star Lord said. "Like the tender lover I am."

"Tender? There're a line of women who'd disagree with that."

"Says you."

"Says the psychotic ex's we keep runnin' into across the galaxy. Ya got any idea how much easier things would be if ya weren't such a—"

"Excuse me again," Thera interjected. She laughed weakly. "Where're the others?"

"Outside," Rocket answered. "The kid mentioned landin' here before our thrusters sputtered out."

"Why would Sam do that?"

Star Lord sent Thera a crooked grin. "It's a water-rich planet. He thought you could use a breather, so to speak."

"He did?" The mutant fought a smile as Rocket waved a paw.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "How sweet. Take yer puppy love elsewhere. I got work to do."

"It's _not_ love," Thera muttered. Right?

"Fin!" Star Lord waved over the redhead. "This way. I'm sure you wanna see Sam."

Thera groaned. "Haven't you teased enough?"

"Never. Now take this."

"What is it?" Thera grabbed a tube from Star Lord and looked it over.

"It's my special cream."

' _Say what?_ ' Brow raised, Thera hesitated before following the Guardian through the doorway.

"It isn't anything weird," Star Lord added. "It accelerates healing. Put it on your forearms. Considering how often you pick at them, they could use the help."

She didn't pick at them. Did she?

The mutant lifted her arms then cringed. Their scales were jagged, their color muted. New blood had formed around her fins and spotted her webbed-hands, and the smell soured her stomach.

Star Lord clicked his tongue. "See? Clip those things on a doorjamb, they'll rip right off."

Thera's stomach sank. "Uff da! Thanks for giving me something new to worry about."

"Just sayin'."

"Well don't."

Thera sent a sidelong stare then opened the tube. She applied its cream along her dry skin, tailing Star Lord throughout the Milano until they reached its exit. A damp heat wafted up once the stern opened—as if Thera had abandoned the AC for a sauna. She blinked, webbed feet slipping along the metal ramp as she eased into a bright haze.

"Fin, here."

Squinting, Thera reached for whatever Star Lord offered. Smooth, thin plastic? Ah, sunglasses. The teen slipped them onto her face and thanked the Lord that her sight had returned. She'd almost run into Drax.

"Oh, pardon me, Drax Sir," she said, bent backwards.

Drax turned with slim eyes. "Pardon? Why? What have you done, Child?"

"…Nothing?"

The man grunted. "You have recovered."

"Y—yes. I'm, uh, fit as a fiddle now."

The white eyes narrowed further. "What is a 'fiddle'?"

"It's an instrument, you know? Like a violin, except more…coun…try…" The phrase was lost on the alien, so Thera glanced down then up again. "So, how's the weather?"

"Hot and wet."

The mutant forced a chuckle. He sounded so serious for such a simple answer.

"Thera?"

Thera rounded Drax as a dark figure landed beside her. "Hi, Sam," she said.

"Feeling any better?" Nova questioned. Was it wrong to enjoy the concern in his voice?

"Yep," Thera answered.

"Really?" Nova's attention fell on the redhead's arms.

Thera nodded, scales ruffling atop her cheekbones. "Ya betcha. I just needed…water. Uh, wh—where are we?"

"Al'kon."

"It's like a tropical island."

"Only on the equator."

"How hot is it?"

The Centurion shrugged one shoulder.

"Ninety," Star Lord answered. His bare chest puffed up. "Ah. Smell that salty breeze."

"You mean Fahrenheit, right?" asked Thera.

"What else would I mean?"

"Celsius."

"Who uses Celsius?"

"I do. Along with a majority of Earth's people."

"Wait," Nova interjected, "why do you use Celsius?"

"Everyone from North Dakota does."

Nova's lips twitched upward. "Nor'Dakoda?"

"I do _not_ sound like that."

"You do. Just ask Webs; he loves your accent."

"Oh, I don't have an accent. And Spider-Man's impersonations are worse than yours. We aren't Canadian."

"Close enough, eh? Guess that's why you use Celsius."

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

"Gotta agree with Sam there," said Star Lord. He laughed, tucking his chin to peer over his sunglasses.

"You would," Thera told him.

"Accents aside, does this look like Earth?"

Thera glossed over the white sand and gentle surf until her eyes settled on some distant rock formations. "Kind'a."

"Well, it ain't. Its days are nearly three hours shorter and its orbit is a decade longer."

"But we can breathe."

Star Lord stretched. "Carbon-based. Point-nine atmospheric pressure. So long as we stay away from the polar ends, we're golden."

"Which means…?"

"It means you should be fine in the water," Nova said.

With a frown, Thera flexed her forearms. They already felt stiff again.

"By the way, Sam." Star Lord approached the Centurion. "Why are you still suited up?"

"Recon," said Nova dryly. "You may've ditched, but Master Gamora was concerned about pirates."

"Pirates?" Thera echoed.

Nova looked her way. "There's a reason this planet isn't settled."

Star Lord waved a dismissive hand. "A little piracy never stopped us, but I take it the report was clear?"

"Yeah. Gamora's on her way back now."

"Score!"

"Got plans?"

Star Lord adjusted his sunglasses. "Naturally. So why not dress down and break out the beach gear?"

"Got you beat, Quill." Nova removed his helmet, and with it, his uniform. In place of civilian clothes, though, he wore a pair of teal swimming trunks.

"Uh"—Thera did her best to ignore the Hispanic's lean chest—"you guys have _beach gear_?"

Star Lord nodded. "No harm in positive thinking. Right, Kid?"

Sam flashed a smile. It was profound. Light. How strange. Where had his heaviness gone so quickly?

"Catch!"

Thera stopped a volleyball from sailing into her head, but just barely. "Careful, Sam!"

"Well maybe you shouldn't be daydreaming." Sam stepped off the stern ramp then wiggled his eyebrows. "Was it saucy?"

Ugh. The mutant squeezed the volleyball. She'd be worried about _that_?

"Come on, tell me," Sam continued. "You wanted to talk, right? Was the dream about me?"

"None of your business."

"It was!"

"As if!"

"Come on, guys," Star Lord butted in. He seemed too amused. "Save that passion for the game."

Thera creased her brow. "Game?"

The man pointed at what Thera held.

"Volleyball?" she asked. "Do you even know how to play?"

"Sam taught us."

"Keep on your toes, though." Sam leaned towards Thera's ear. "They cheat."

Star Lord scoffed. "Cheating makes things fun. And don't act above us. I know what happened last time."

"It was the ball's fault."

"Uh-huh. Just for that, I'm switching up teams."

"To what, Quill?" Gamora joined the conversation, a hand on her hip. When she had returned or how she hadn't fainted from being in costume, Thera had no clue. "Do you believe Sam, Drax, and I make a poor team?"

"No," Star Lord countered.

"Then why change?"

"Because it's unfair. Okay?"

Thera watched Star Lord groan. "I thought cheating was fun."

"Cheating, yes," the man said. "But with Drax and Gamora on the same side, my poor body suffers. I'm delicate."

Gamora looked less than impressed. "Then maybe you should not willingly set yourself up."

"Or"—Star Lord grinned—"I can give myself a fighting chance. I'll take Drax (wherever he wondered off to) and you keep Sam."

"What about me?" asked Thera.

Star Lord rubbed his chin. "Simple. You pick a side."

"Don't I make things…uneven?"

"We'll manage. So, you ready to play volleyball—Guardian Style?"

Thera matched Star Lord's smirk then nodded.

* * *

Hours later, the Guardians retired from their tied game, and Thera found herself lost in Al'kon's twilight. It was perfect. Who knew she would find such contentment on an alien planet? The redhead closed her eyes, smiling at the wind that left salt in her nose and the surf that cradled her.

' _Not even mine and Eorl's secret lake felt this good…ow!_ '

Thera opened her eyes to see what had hit her. Sam loomed overhead, now dressed in a sweater and shorts. His mouth moved, but all Thera could hear was his foot through the water.

She twisted her neck so one ear stuck out. "Pardon?"

"It's not too cold?" Sam asked through chattering teeth.

"Nope!" Thera inhaled then stopped, gaze turning upwards. "Is it time to go?"

"Almost. Master Rocket's making a few adjustments on the Nova Cruiser."

"How much longer?"

"Dunno."

Thera let out a long sigh. Sam shifted, but the mutant kept focused. Blues and purples with a pink-ish hint: those were her favorite colors for a sky. Forget that murky orange in the city.

"Oh." Something bright caught Thera's attention. "Is that a firefly?"

"Fireflies don't exist outside Earth," replied Sam.

Thera watched the light join dozens like it. "Then what are they?"

"Seeds."

"From what?"

"Groot." Sam smiled; it reflected in his voice. "He must be happy too."

"Who else is happy, Sam? You?"

The Hispanic rubbed his biceps. "Maybe. Are you? Better be, considering it's your fault we stopped."

"I thought the thrusters gave out."

"We were already on our way here."

"So it's my fault we played volleyball then?"

"Totally."

"Guess there are worse things to be blamed for…Oh!" Thera sat upright. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

Sam kicked the shallow water. "No. It's fine. _I'm_ fine."

Somehow, Thera believed him. "You talked about the Yoon-Beas."

"With Quill. Still mad I didn't come to you first?"

"No." The mutant pulled her hands out from the wet sand then ran them down her submerged legs. "I'm glad you found someone to confine in. I've realized that wasn't what bothered me."

"So what did? Was it really because you felt like I was leaving you behind?"

"Would you be upset if I said 'yes'?"

Sam sighed over the surf's rhythmic mummer. "Guess not. I've been left. I understand the fear of it happening again. But I told you I'd be back."

"Oh, did you forget everything in the shower?"

"You realize that sounds so wrong."

Thera made a face.

"I didn't forget," added Sam, softer.

"Outer Space doesn't care about different species. Out here, my X-Gene is overlooked. I'm…normal."

"No one here is normal, Fin. Thera."

"Call me whatever. All the world will ever see is 'Fin'."

"That doesn't mean you stop being 'Thera'."

"You don't get it. I feel like Thera died in Enderlin."

Sam jerked his head downwards as the redhead continued,

"She had a family, a best friend. She could walk a street without people staring at her scales. Being in the water was a choice—not a life or death matter. She was simple and never dreamed big."

"So you're saying that ain't you anymore?"

Thera's hand rose to touch a glowing seed with her fingertip. "Closest to grand I got was swimming competitions. But Eorl had always been better. He could aim for the Olympics. While I accepted my small-town status. I mean, my greatest aspiration was to follow Uncle Bernie's footsteps."

Sam snorted. "In a crop duster."

"Yup. But instead, I'm a superhero. I'm _in_ Space."

"Space is universal, Idiot. You've always been in it."

"Oh, you get my point."

"Not really."

"You're the one who's been constantly reminding me that I belong on Earth. You must realize people find being here a far-off dream. They barely get a chance to jump continents, let alone planets. This may be routine for you, but for me this trip has been…"

"What?"

"Oh, I—I don't know. There's no word for it. But I'm happy."

"Happy? Even though you never got what you wanted?"

"What I wanted was to feel like part of a family again."

"By stowing away on a spaceship?"

"Oh, it was a terrible idea. But you shut me down. I get your need to talk about certain things with certain people. Lord knows Fury's therapist doesn't understand half the things she says she does."

"Tell me about it."

"For crying out loud, I've been _trying_ to." Thera captured two seedlings, using their yellow light as a distraction from Sam's gaze. "We were held captive together. We made a promise. I thought that meant something."

"It did. Does. But…" The Hispanic rubbed his neck.

"I'm not an Enderlin girl anymore. I can't go back and I'm not sure how to go forward, either. I'm…in limbo."

"We're teenagers. No teenager knows where they'll end up. Except for me, of course. I'll be the top hero in the universe that gorgeous girls fawn over."

Thera deadpanned.

"That said," Sam added, "you have time to figure things out."

"I don't need _time_ , Samuel. I need a _friend_."

Sam remained stiff, water crashing against his shins, and his persistent silence made the mutant frown.

"I—I can't find my path alone," she said softly. "I'm no good on my own. I love my team, but being with them is different from…"

"From what?"

Thera's head shook like her hands. "Nothing. It's just—you're one of the only friends I have outside Enderlin. I…I don't want that to change."

"Thera."

Sam leaned down and Thera avoided his eyes when he touched her shoulder. What if he thought she was being dumb? Overemotional? Curséd feelings.

"Hey, love birds!" Star Lord's voice scared the teens straight. "Time to scat!"

"Love birds?" questioned Sam.

"Scat?" Thera followed up.

They shared a look as the man waved in the distance alongside his team.

"Guess the weekend's over," the redhead noted.

"Don't worry." Sam flashed a smirk. "They'll be more like it."

Thera watched the Hispanic leave with a smile.

That was a promise, wasn't it? About time! She needed more chances with the Guardians. And even more chances with Samuel. Maybe then she could understand why she gravitated towards him.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sam and Thera. AKA, the old married couple. Thera isn't as shy as I planned. Silly girl. They're still fun to write, though. Definitely different from Danny and Zeelan.

Speaking of...their book " _Vantage_ " is next. But I likely won't get to it for a while. Be on the lookout. Until, adios! XD


End file.
